Here's how it was for me

Usually when a person is caught cheating, it’s assumed that the cheater was out sniffing around town for something to rub up against, while the faithful loving spouse was home ironing the cheater’s shirts. Sometimes it’s like that. It wasn’t for me.

First off, no one was ironing my shirts. Well, sometimes the nice lady at the dry cleaner’s was, but (a) I wasn’t married to her, so I don’t think she can legitimately complain, and (b) I’m mostly a wash & wear kind of girl anyway. But more to the point, I wasn’t looking for an affair. I was minding my own business, going to work (after a long stint as a stay-home mom before that), taking care of my children, spending most of my free time with or in service of my family. I was not trawling through bars; I was not on dating websites; I was not going on business trips and trying to pick people up. Still, I found trouble without looking for it.

Obviously, I made choices, each of which incrementally added up to what ultimately transpired. I chose to friend DB on Facebook; I chose to have a regular e-mail correspondence with him; I didn’t stop that correspondence when I realized I was checking my e-mail frequently, with a certain breathless anticipation that could not be chalked up to catching up with an old friend. I shared emotions with him that I couldn’t discuss with anyone, I realized how desperately I desired him physically, and still I didn’t put the brakes on. I think this is what people often mean when they say an affair “just happened.” But of course it doesn’t “just happen.” People choose, maybe not all at once, but by degrees.

I didn’t see it that way at the time. At the time, I felt like I was getting hit by a tidal wave. The emotions were so intense, the highs and lows so conflicting. It wasn’t that I didn’t have control over my actions; I did. But I was drawn to this man in a way that I’d never been drawn to anyone. Yes, I desired him, but it was beyond lust. It didn’t matter whether I could actually be with him or not. My heart was his, and I couldn’t help loving him. I was willing to wait for him as long as it took. If that turned out to be never, I wasn’t going to stop loving him. I still love him that way. I can’t help it.

I know how I sound. I know that at the time, I was high on neurotransmitters and adrenaline, and I did not see clearly the pain that I was going to rain down on myself and others as a result of my actions. I thought I did, but I had no idea. I have lost so much sleep, cried so many tears, agonized about what to do, writhed in guilt and shame. It has hurt more than I can describe.

Here’s the thing. After all of this pain, after everything we have both been through, he is still holding my hand, and I am still holding his. If this was only a booty call, or an attempt to relieve boredom and get an emotional high, I would have bailed on him long ago, and he would have bailed on me. It would not have been worth it.

Most of the time it probably isn’t worth it. Most of the time I think people are looking for something by having an affair that they’re not actually going to get from the affair: a sense of completion and wholeness and safety they can only find within themselves. And I know I am not immune from that, nor is DB. We are flawed and broken people, and neither of us can heal the other. We are trying to rebuild ourselves, and it is not an easy process, nor one that will ever be truly completed. The affair was not a fix for all our existing problems. We simply took those problems with us.

I’ve struggled with how to end this post, because I don’t endorse what I did, but I love this man. I’m not naïve or stupid. I don’t believe in happily ever after; I believe you have to work at relationships. If it were easy, we would not have such a high divorce rate. But I would never have believed that I could love a man the way I love DB. The only other people I love with such fierce devotion are my children, who are obviously in a different category, but it’s that kind of intensity. I wasn’t looking for this relationship because I didn’t even know such a thing could exist. And once I knew, I couldn’t turn away from it.

People who haven’t stood in my shoes can judge me all they want, but if it happened to them, if they truly felt this way about someone else, I question whether they would be able to walk away, and what they might find themselves willing to do to be with that person.

Here’s how it was for me:

from Pablo Neruda’s Cien Sonetos de Amor (100 Love Sonnets)

XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.